


Die Without You

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, despite the title there is no angst here, it’s soft and sweet what can I say, lazy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 22:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20803739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Sylvain combed his fingers through that soft, dark hair, and he thought of all the times they had promised to die together.





	Die Without You

When they were children they played with wooden swords. Not even fit for training, they were small toys that were meant to beat someone harmlessly upside the head while their parents talked about grown-up stuff. They never worried about things like bloodshed or death back then, they were just kids. Felix was a chubby-cheeked little thing with a coat that was too big on him and made it hard for him to move his arms around. 

Sylvain fondly remembers that time. It was before anything terrible had happened to any of them. It was easy. But that day, with Felix stomping around in his boots behind Sylvain, eagerly pulling on his hand in his efforts to keep up while they left a snowy trail to their destination, they wrote their own fates. 

Sylvain hums to himself. He moves from where he was pouring himself a cup of tea and instead wanders over to stand by the fire. He watches the embers lick over the wood. 

When they were children all those years ago, they laughed and swung those wooden swords at each other until Sylvain tripped and fell back into a snowdrift. It was so cold, but he was too giggly to care. Felix stood over him with his sword hanging down by his side and said “I win. Now you’re dead.” 

Felix’s nose was pink and his cheeks were chapped and he was just a little kid playing. Sylvain’s neck was tingling where the snow was creeping into his clothes, but he dropped the back of his hand against his forehead and pretended he was in agonizing pain. “Woe is me! I’m dying.” He coughed for good measure. “Dead! Felix… live on…” 

Sylvain remembers having a lot of fun coming up with those few, dying words… but then he stopped having fun because Felix started to hiccup, and by the time Sylvain sat up and figured out what was going on he was openly crying. “Hey!’ He cried. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t wanna live if you died,” He said with a pouty face that only a five-year-old could make so effective. 

And, only a few years older himself, Sylvain’s best reaction was to argue. “Well, I don’t wanna live if you’re dead either. Someone’s got to die first.” 

“Can’t we die at the same time?” Felix asked. He wiped his eyes with the back of his mittens and worked on calming down his own tears. He was sort of a cry baby back then, but he usually calmed down fast. Especially if he got what he wanted. Sylvain, at the time, didn’t even understand why he was crying. No one actually died. 

“That could work,” Sylvain said. He rubbed the back of his neck to warm it up and then reached out to take Felix’s hand. It was time to go back inside and warm up. “Then neither of us has to be alone, I guess.” 

“Good. I don’t want to die without you,” Felix said. 

Even though that memory is so distant, Sylvain feels like it’s just as vivid in his mind as if it were yesterday. Although he can’t really remember the sound of Felix’s voice back then, or the exact features of his face, he remembers the way he felt. Like that was the most important promise he would ever make. And, hey, he still thinks it is. 

He settles down to sit not in the lounge chair but in a pile of cushions and blankets on the floor. Felix threw them there this morning when he arrived, stomping right into Margrave Gautier’s bedroom as if he owned it and claiming he needed to lay by the fire before his legs froze off. 

He could have gone to a guest room to do that, and he could have made less of a mess, but he wasn’t doing it because he was cold. He was doing it to stake a claim, and they both know it. A dramatic claim. They chatted for a while, but Felix dozed off reading a book and Sylvain hasn’t bothered to wake him yet. It’s only been an hour, and the journey from Fraldarius territory isn't far, but it isn’t terribly close either. Especially in this frigid time of year. 

Sylvain went about his morning as usual before, but now he settles into the toasty blanket nest on the floor and sips his tea. 

He can recall several times when Felix urged him not to die, of course. Especially after Glenn died, and Felix took to training himself to his breaking points just to keep his loved ones safe--among other less than healthy coping mechanisms. 

When they were students in the Officer’s Academy there was a time when Sylvain was carrying way more books than he bargained for, for Hilda. They were stacked up past his head, wobbling and threatening to fall over, and they weren’t exactly light either. Sylvain didn’t even know that Felix was in front of him until he heard his voice. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Sylvain grunted. “I’m taking these back to the library? Duh?” 

Felix didn’t respond so much as clicked his tongue to try and sound judgmental. When they were kids it hurt a little more. Especially when they first started at the academy. But as time went on, Sylvain got used to it. Felix was a little harder to read, back then. He took a few steps and finally appeared in Sylvain’s field of vision. “You aren’t studious. Why do you have so many books?” 

“Maybe I wanted to read them?”

“Hmph.” 

Sylvain held in a little laugh, but he still chuckled just hard enough that the books were beginning to wobble. Felix glanced up at them, and he reached out a hand to steady them midway up the pile. Sylvain sighed in relief. “Okay, fine. Hilda tricked me into taking them back for her. Can you give me a hand?” 

“Why should I? I’m not the one wasting my time flirting with every girl here.” 

Sylvain huffed. He took a step forward, cautiously trying to proceed up the stairs to the library on his own. The pile wobbled again. He couldn’t see the stairs, and he was destined to drop these books in his near future… but Felix scoffed. “You’re going to fall and break your neck.” 

“All the more reason for you to help me! I don’t want to die without you, you know, so why don’t you help me carry these so I don’t have to?” 

“Even if we both carry half…” But Felix sighs. “Fine.” 

When they were enrolled in the Officer’s Academy, Sylvain recalls, Felix’s hair was shorter. Not shorter than Sylvain’s, of course. He always wore it up in a ponytail, and that hasn’t changed about him. It was far shorter than it is now, though. Sylvain brushes his fingers through it to the ends. Soft as always, but longer than it was the last time they spoke, even. It’s handsome. Sylvain wonders how long he’ll let it get. 

(He can already imagine curling up his fingers in it and pulling him down to kiss.)

Maybe he accidentally does tug, because Felix grumbles in his sleep. It turns into a louder complaint when Sylvain snickers. “Sorry! Sorry,” he mumbles softly. He pulls his hand away, but Felix reaches out for it and weaves their fingers together instead. He doesn’t say a word, just goes back to dozing. Sylvain sips his tea with his other hand and stays quiet, too. 

During the war, there was a time or two when Sylvain was injured in his efforts to watch Felix’s back. The same scenario happened in reverse once or twice, too. Every time he got hurt for Felix he felt like he was just doing his best to keep him safe. Every time Felix got hurt for him, he thought his world was ending. 

But there was once when Felix was hurt badly enough that he was bed-bound for a few days. It was funny when it happened to Sylvain. He laughed it off, even though Felix was worried. Now that it was in reverse, he hated it. But he slipped into his room and even though he didn’t have any permission, he sat on the side of his bed. “Fel,” he said softly. Felix mumbled a tired response at him. “You remember how you said you wanted to hug me?” 

Felix groaned. Sylvain started to fumble through what he wanted to say. They were just two people. Two bodies that could give up at any time, but they kept pushing on because they had to. He was afraid of that, he was afraid of a lot of things. But Felix lifted up his arm, and also the blankets, and Sylvain didn’t miss the chance. He slipped into the bed with him and tucked his nose into his neck where he could just… breathe him in. Felix limply draped his arm over him. It was a far cry from a hug. “Needy,” Felix muttered.

Sylvain didn’t argue with him. He nodded his head, actually, and he squeezed Felix until he heard him gasp--then he let go quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He mumbled. 

Felix sighed. Sylvain stayed quiet. They were just quiet, terribly quiet. Sylvain thought Felix might have gone back to sleep. That was fine because he was content to lie here and listen to him breathe near his ear. Felix wasn’t asleep, though, because he trailed his fingertips a little too tenderly along Sylvain’s side. “Why are you here?” Felix asked. 

They both knew why, that is, but it was hard to say it when they were at war. It was hard to want something when you didn’t know. But, well, Sylvain wanted it anyway. “I don’t want to die alone,” he said in a weak voice. Felix sighed near his ear. “Don’t let me die without you. I have so much I want…” 

“Shut up,” Felix grunted. “I know--I already know.” 

“You just asked…” But it was fine. Sylvain didn’t mind, because it was obvious. Felix wouldn’t just let him lay here cuddling if he didn’t feel exactly the same. 

“I won’t let you die alone,” Felix said after a few more seconds passed by. 

Sylvain sets his empty cup of tea to the side. Felix is awake now, but he hasn’t moved from his spot. He rarely indulges in being lazy, so Sylvain doesn’t want to bother him. Even so, while Felix lays there with his eyes closed, chasing the last remnants of his nap, Sylvain takes an opportunity. 

He’s thought about how he wanted to do this a hundred times, but Felix made it pretty easy by putting his hand right in Sylvain’s. So from the breast pocket of his robe, he pulls the ring he meant to properly propose with… and he slips it effortlessly past Felix’s knuckles. 

It’s enough of a stir to make Felix sit up and look at it. He pulls his hand back to inspect the ring, and then he turns his attention back to Sylvain. Sylvain thinks he’s absolutely dazzling. Just a little disheveled from his nap, the imprint of the blanket’s texture pressed into the skin of one cheek, and a tiny, startled smile. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Felix asks. 

“I was just thinking… Our territories could be stronger together. And I miss you, all the time.” 

“Is that so.” It isn’t a question at all, just a low rumble of a hum in Felix’s throat. “Is that all?”

“Of course not!” Sylvain shakes his head. He crawls over Felix, settles down to kiss his neck… and then blow a raspberry that has Felix shoving him away with his hands. “I want to spend the whole rest of my life with you, Fel. And when we’re done with that, I want to die with you--neither of us will ever be alone.” 

“You disgust me.” Felix’s smile gets a little wider, despite his words. Sylvain wriggles his face closer to kiss him beside his ear. 

“Marry me,” Sylvain coos. Felix makes a noise caught between a whine and a groan. “Come on… you know you want to. You wouldn’t still be wearing that ring if you didn’t. Say you want me.” 

Felix catches Sylvain’s chin between his fingers. He redirects his attention so their lips can touch, but it’s less of a kiss and more of a challenge. “I want you,” He says with his voice calm and level. Then, softer than he’s ever said it, “Idiot.” 

Sylvain wouldn’t mind laying by the fire, kissing Felix into the blankets, and being called an idiot until the day they die. 


End file.
